A Charmed Mind: Mage Paranormal Romance (Illusions Academy Book 1)

by Kaylin Peyerk

  I turn to him, fury clear on my face. “Don’t talk about that. Ever. Got it?”

  Golden magic crackles in the air like lightning, and he watches it, enraptured. Just as soon as it appeared, it winked out, and I wondered to myself whether or not it was an illusion. By the look on Demetri’s face, it most certainly was not. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to calm me down. Seeing my magic had already scared me into complacency, as I’m not sure how to control it or how much damage I’m capable of doing.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, moving toward me. “What really happened with the professor?”

  Instead of allowing him to touch me with his outstretched hand I whirl away and stalk into my bedroom. I drop my weary body onto the bed and look up at him, trying to gauge whether or not I can be completely honest. Will he tell anyone? I wonder. I’d like to think he would, but if I’m honest with myself I know that he won’t. He’s changed whether I want to admit it or not. Not that I care or anything.

  “I stood up with the simple intention of shouting to break his concentration, and I slammed my palms onto the table as I did. It kind of created this ripple effect where all the magic was sucked out of the air and the stones to rush into me. Then his stones fell, breaking apart across the floor into a million pieces that I later had to sweep up.”

  He flinches at my explanation. “Yikes. That’s a mess up if I’ve ever heard one.”

  I flop back onto the bed, groaning. “Tell me about it. Now he’s all suspicious of me, and he won’t show it outright, but I can feel him watching me when he thinks I’m not looking.”

  “And what does he have to be suspicious of?” he asks, sitting on the bed beside me.

  I give him a sidelong look. “Nothing, obviously. It was a fluke.”

  Demetri leans back on his side, propping his head up to look at me with prying eyes. “Is that what you’re going to call it every time you do something completely amazing? A fluke?”

  “Yes, and I’m sticking to it. For my entire life I've been normal, a lemon of a mage. I’d like to keep it that way because what’s showing now can only mean that I’m. . .” I trail off, not wanting to say it out loud, especially to him.

  “A delphic mage, one of great and terrible power. A type that hasn’t been seen in centuries,” he finishes for me in a whisper so quiet that I almost didn’t hear him.

  We lock eyes, and I can’t read the look on his face. It pains me that I want him to accept me, to be my friend despite him figuring out what I may or may not be. Delphic mages are banned in our society. When there were delphic mages, which was over one hundred years ago, they were hunted and executed. Not only because of their extreme power, but because of the way they chose to use it. For evil deeds, to get even more power and control.

  “Maybe it’s not true,” I whisper.

  He smiles sadly. “It is true, El.”

  My chest caves in at his words, and any air I had whooshes out, leaving me with nothing. How am I, the child of two elemental mages, a delphic mage? It doesn’t make any sense. This power had to have come from somewhere, just not my parents. A dead grandparent? A secret aunt or uncle? Cousin? Okay, that’s a stretch, but I’m already grasping at straws. I stand up and begin to pace back and forth just as someone knocks on my bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” I call.

  “Sage. Can I come in?” she asks.

  My gaze goes back to Demetri, and he raises one eyebrow. God I wish he wasn’t so handsome, and of course the afternoon light coming through my window is shining on him like he’s the god of the sun. My face flushes at the suggestive pose he’s in on my bed, how did I not notice that earlier? If Sage comes in here will she get the wrong idea? But if I don’t let her in she’ll think I’m a bitch. It’s a lose-lose situation.

  “Yeah, come on in,” I call, still not looking at the door.

  It creaks open and she makes a surprised sound, forcing my gaze back to her. The shock on her face is comical, and an embarrassing snort of laughter comes out my nose. Demetri bursts out laughing behind me, and eventually Sage starts up too. I’m the first one to sober, and I look up at her while shaking my hands back and forth vehemently.

  “It’s not what you think. If it was, do you think I’d let you in here?”

  Her face is still a cute shade of pink when she’s finally able to respond. “No, I guess not. So why is there a second year boy in your room then? And the most popular one at that?”

  Demetri hops up and sticks his hand out to her, Sage takes it warily, and he brings it to his lips. “I’m Demetri, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pauses to point back at me. “El and I have known each other for a very long time. Our parents run in the same circles.”

  It takes a lot of self-control not to scoff. At least he didn’t tell her that we’re friends, or worse, lovers of some kind. He was a pest when he was younger, and now he’s like a leech who won’t get off my back. A leech that knows my secret, my very dangerous life threatening secret. If he tells anyone about it, even my own mother, I’m as good as dead. Even though it’s not the middle ages anymore, I’m not sure that the mage community has reformed enough not to eliminate the biggest threat in existence. Which, apparently, is me now. Even after saying it out loud to Demetri, and hearing him say it’s true, I still barely believe it.

  Maybe it’s because I’m having a hard time believing I could ever become a bloodthirsty, power hungry demon of a woman like the ones in the history books. I’m a normal eighteen year old girl who’s only trying to become enough of a success to impress my overbearing mother. Now that dream seems like it can never come true if every time I use magic it gives up my identity. An idea pops into my head and I desperately want to run it by Demetri, but him and Sage are chatting away happily. Normally.

  It’d probably be for the best that I don’t drag him any deeper than he already is. If anyone finds out that he knew what I am but failed to report it I’m not sure what the council will do. Surely they wouldn’t kill him too? But. . . Maybe they would if they want to repeat history. The thought makes my blood run cold, and I have to grip the edge of my bed to stay standing. Everyone around me is at risk simply because of the magic running through my veins. But is it because my kind has been ostracized, or because I really am dangerous? I suppose that’s what I need to figure out.

  “Did you hear me, Elise?” Sage asks, and I whip my head up.

  “What? Sorry?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I came in here to ask if you wanted to go bowling with us tonight. You know, the friend group you met at lunch? Demetri already said he’d come.”

  My head moves back and forth between them, while I come up with an excuse to uninvite him. “Oh, I’m sure Demetri doesn’t really want to hang out with a bunch of first years, right?”

  I look at him, and the sly smile on his face makes me want to ram my fist into it. “It’s not a problem, I’m not against hanging out with first years. Plus, I want to get to know your friends.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

  “Because it’s what you do. See you at eight, I’m gonna go get some dinner,” he says, waving one hand behind him on his way out.

  “It’s what you do? What does that mean?” I ask Sage, giving her a dumbfounded look.

  She giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. “It’s what you do when you like someone.”

  Chapter Eight

  Apparently there’s a bowling alley two blocks from the campus that has half-off glow bowling after eight on the weekends. At least, that’s what Sage blabbered on about the entire way there with her friends, Demetri and I following behind at a distance. Her friends keep sneaking glances at him, or at me. One is adoring while the other is curious with a touch of jealousy. I bet you can guess which one is directed at me.

  I lean into Demetri, whispering, “I don’t know what irritates me more, you showing up for this, or the way all of them keep looking at you.”

  He laughs. “What, are you jealous?” />
  This time I really do scoff. “Of course not! Like I said, it’s just irritating.” “

  “Uh-huh,” he replies, still grinning.

  “I swear to god, Demetri, I will hit you,” I whisper furiously, and when I go to swing he dances away to hold the door open for all the girls.

  One of them brushes his arm as she passes him, and my irritation spikes, but I try not to show it on my face. There is no way I’m jealous. He’s just Demetri is all. An annoying, prying, far too attentive pain in my ass. I go in last, breezing past him without giving him so much as a thank you.

  He catches up easily, slinging his arm around my shoulders. I can’t tell if it’s simply a good natured side hug or him staking his claim on me, and for that reason I shrug him off. When I glance up at him he still has that same stupid happy go lucky smile on his face, like he didn’t even notice my rejection. Or, my brain interrupts, it just doesn’t matter all that much to a playboy like him. Yeah, that’s more like it.

  “I’ll get you a pair of shoes. What size are you?” he asks.

  “Nine,” I grind out before fleeing to the table with the others.

  The sounds of the bowling alley wash over me, filling me with a sense of familiar longing. My father and I used to go bowling every Saturday night up until I was ten years old. After that, my mother claimed it was unsightly for a girl. That ended it, just like that, no fight from my father. As usual. Sometimes I just wish that he’d talk to her, yell at her, do something other than stand there and take it.

  But my mother is the alpha, and he is the beta.

  “Here are your shoes,” Demetri says, coming up to bump my shoulder playfully.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, still lost in thought.

  Sage and the others put our names in, giggling at all the acronyms they have to use. For Demetri they use big D, and he looks much more pleased than he should be. It makes me groan out loud and flop back into my chair dramatically. He laughs, hitting my shoulder like we’re old pals. The gesture makes me peak at him out of the corner of my eye, but he’s not looking at me. He had gotten up to choose a ball, a heavy one by the looks of it. Was what Sage said earlier wrong?

  It’s what you do when you like someone.

  He just bro hit me. That’s not what you do to a girl you like. Ugh, why do I even care? That’s the real question. If I want him out of my life then I should embrace the bro hit. In theory it’s a one way ticket to the friend zone, a place where I can happily reside with little physical contact. That way we can coexist without him outing me to the entire academy. But is that what you really want? My brain whispers, and I shove the thought away.

  “You’re up, El!” Demetri calls, gesturing to the lane.

  I look up to see that he got a strike, not unsurprising, as he’s a phrenic mage in his second year. He can probably control the ball’s movement for all I know. If I’m some sort of delphic mage, maybe I can too. He brushes past me, and I grip his fingers for two seconds too long, inhaling his magic, pulling it into my own chest. In response I feel his pulse rise, his breathing quicken. Does it feel good to have your magic siphoned? It seems like it.

  Just as fast, I’m walking again, moving to the lane with a six pound ball gripped firmly in my palm. I’m going to try this. And if it doesn’t work, then no harm done. I’m not a delphic mage like we thought, but if it does then. . . Let’s not think about that until we have to, right?

  I bring the ball up to my face before walking forward, and before I know it, it’s flying down the lane at breakneck speed. With my mind I channel the magic into it, praying that it gets a strike, not even knowing if that’s how you do such magic. The ball seems to speed up, turning slightly, before slamming into the pins for a less than clear strike. Was that me? Or chance? Ugh. You’d think I’d know it if I’d used magic.

  My party members cheer for me as I stumble back to my seat, still wondering whether or not that was my bowling skill or magic. Demetri doesn’t seem phased by my strike, so there must not have been any glimpse of golden magic, but as I’ve seen before, that doesn’t mean much. Sage and her friends take turns bowling, and all of them are equally awful at it. Demetri and I take turns smothering laughter at their expense, and hitting each other light when we lose it completely. Several rounds pass, with Demetri and I clearly in the lead, before I stand to grab a drink.

  “I’m gonna grab a drink, you want one?” I ask.

  He looks up at me, still chuckling from a particularly bad throw Sage just made. “No, you go ahead.”

  His grin had thrown me off, but I stumble away to the concessions to hide it. I need to control myself around him, he doesn’t like me like that. At least I don’t think he does. The signals are still a little bit clouded. One minute Sage is telling me he wants me, and the next he’s giving me friendly vibes. All the while I claim to hate him. Yeah, I tell myself, real convincing.

  “One soda please, oh, and a soft pretzel,” I request as I get to the counter.

  I pay before moving to the side and watching my friends. Demetri is up, and he throws one shy of a spare, cursing himself under his breath. Perhaps he isn’t using phrenic powers after all. At that moment he looks up, locking eyes with me, and I can’t help but smile. He points to the lane, and I gesture toward it, hoping he’ll get the hint and bowl for me.

  He does, getting me a strike instead of himself, and the other girls groan. My order is called, and I grab it before heading back. The tenth frame is coming up, and I sure as hell don’t want to miss that. Demetri’s eyes zero in my pretzel, but I hold it away from his prying hands.

  “You said you didn’t want anything!”

  “You didn’t say you were getting food,” he says, reaching for it again.

  With reluctance, I hand it to him while taking a sip of my drink. He eats more than half before giving it back, and I sigh in defeat. Next time I’ll have to cover it in mustard so he won’t even want one bite. The thought surprises me, and I blush, staring at him as he watches the others bowl. It feels strange that I remember the most miniscule things about him from our childhood, like what kind of condiments he hates. It’s too personal, too intimate.

  He catches me looking at him, and a perfect rosiness fills his face from the neck up. I have to hold in my laughter at the sight. I’m making him feel nervous? Now I really do laugh, and he looks away, an embarrassed grin on his face. I grip his arm, forcing him to face me again. When his eyes lock with mine, all thoughts go out the window, and I’m not sure what I planned to say.

  “Why is it that every time I push you away, you somehow come a step closer?” I ask honestly, surprising myself.

  He shrugs before leaning forward, suddenly coming off as cocky again. “It must be my irresistible charm.”

  The charged moment shatters, and I’m able to shove him away with an unsteady laugh. “It’s your turn to bowl Casanova.”

  He hops up while I shove the rest of the pretzel in my mouth just to give it something to do. Watching him now talk and flirt with the other girls stabilizes my emotions, and I force myself to take a deep breath. I need a new mantra in order to stay away from his magnetic laugh and smile and stare. And yeah, I hate myself for not having the willpower to do it on my own, but this kind of thing hasn’t happened to me before. No guy has ever had the chance to get close to me, let alone flirt with me. It’s yet another thing I can credit my mother for. So today will be the day I come up with a mantra.

  I will not fall for Demetri Valkyrie.

  He is a womanizer who only thinks with one thing.

  He is a pretty boy with no brains.

  He is a smooth talker with no heart.

  There, now I’ll survive this, right? Ugh, if only it was that easy.

  ***

  That Sunday afternoon I’m sitting at the tables in the third year courtyard doing my homework, hoping that it’s a place no one will bother me. Either Sage or Demetri had been in my room all weekend, hounding me about campus gossip that I had no idea was happening. Ac
cording to Sage, most of the second year girls are furious with me for stealing so much of Demetri’s time. And apparently Demetri also knows this, because he told me, but at the same time says he doesn’t give a damn. Yeah, well, he might not care, but I do. He’s effectively making me a social pariah within the first two weeks of school. One more, and I might be dead from a jealous hex or something equally horrible.

  Out of the blue, footsteps come toward me across the cobblestones, but I keep my head down in hopes that they’re just passing through. Unfortunately for me, the person didn’t get the hint, and straddles the bench next to me. I look up with a sneer on my face, expecting to see Demetri, but jolt back when I find that it’s Professor Jacobsen.

  “Good afternoon, Elise. It seems you’re as studious as ever, just as your mother trained you to be, hmm?” he asks, a small feline smile on his face.

  If he wasn’t so strange toward me I’d find him attractive, but there’s just something about the way he beats around the bush. As if his point is always hidden behind a smoke screen and you have to find it yourself. I much prefer people who are straight up when they want something or need to say something to me. This man, no matter how talented and young he is, is strange.

  “It’s nice to see you, professor. Taking a stroll?”

  He laughs, and the vibrato is deep like golden honey. “Yes. Sometimes I can’t stand being cooped up in that townhouse of mine.”

  All of the teachers from the academy live in a row of townhouses right across the street. Far enough away that we’re not too close to them, but not far enough for the students to get into too much trouble alone. At least that’s what the dean likes to say. I’m not sure which one is his house, but if I had to guess it’s the one painted a dark charcoal grey, the same color as his eyes and hair.

  At the very least I do admire him for his looks. The most powerful mages have so much magic in them that their appearance is modeled after it, and he looks exactly how I’d suspect a strong phrenic mage to look. That long silver hair paired with his sharp steel grey eyes, cut into people, forcing them to lie all of their cards on the table whether they want to or not. It’s what they’re doing to me right now, and he knows it by the look on his face.